


The Kissing Booth

by Sauronix



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Getting Together, Gladnis Week, Kissing, Kissing Booth, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Prompt: Impulsiveness, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15750957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauronix/pseuds/Sauronix
Summary: Ignis (3:52 PM):Are you inviting me out?Gladiolus (3:53 PM):yeah, guess i am. wanna meet me here? we can grab some cockatrice skewers and play ring toss.Gladio invites Ignis out to the carnival. Written for Gladnis Week Day 1, for the prompt "Impulsiveness."





	The Kissing Booth

The phone on his desk pings with a new notification.  
  
Ignis looks away from his laptop screen to squint at it with sore eyes, and sees, to his surprise, that it’s nearly four o’clock. He last checked the time when he got up from his desk to pour himself a cup of coffee at half past noon. Somehow, those three hours have disappeared on him, and he was so engrossed in his work that he scarcely noticed.  
  
With a yawn, he stretches, cracking his back. This is as good an excuse as any to take a quick break. He swipes his phone’s display to wake it, and his stomach does a little somersault when he sees who’s messaging him.  
  
**Gladiolus (3:48 PM):** what are you up to?  
  
Ignis smiles fondly. There’s nothing out of the ordinary about Gladio texting him—with the way their duties are intertwined around Noct, it’s a daily occurrence—but it never fails to make his heart beat a little bit faster.  
  
Of late, he’s found himself craving more of Gladio’s attention, hoping to catch his eye at the gym or receive an unsolicited late-night message about something other than work. They’ve had a few casual conversations about their lives and their interests—new recipes Ignis has been trying, and the historical novels Gladio reads—and he wants more of that, rather than the conversations about Noct and bureaucracy that occupy so much of their time together.    
  
At first, he tried to write it off as a desire for deeper fraternity, for some indication that the respect he has for Gladio is a mutual sentiment. But when he found himself admiring Gladio’s delightfully muscular rear end in his compression pants at the gym, he had to concede that his affections were perhaps somewhat more than platonic.  
  
And sometimes, when he turns and finds Gladio already looking at him, he wonders if those affections might not be shared.  
  
**Ignis (3:49 PM):** I am finishing a report due to His Majesty tomorrow morning.  
  
Gladio’s answer comes right away.  
  
**Gladiolus (3:49 PM):** iggy, it’s a sunday.  
  
**Ignis (3:50 PM):** I am aware, but the report is urgent.  
  
**Gladiolus (3:51 PM):** can you put it down for an hour?  
  
**Gladiolus (3:51 PM):** it’s the last day of the summer carnival. you should be out here.  
  
Ignis hesitates. The report is more or less complete; the only work he has left to do is create the table of contents, double-check the footnotes and format the report for printing. And those tasks could wait until this evening, couldn’t they?  
  
**Ignis (3:52 PM):** Are you inviting me out?  
  
**Gladiolus (3:53 PM):** yeah, guess i am. wanna meet me here? we can grab some cockatrice skewers and play ring toss.  
  
Ignis smiles. That does sound delightful, and there’s no way he can decline, not when it’s Gladio asking him to spend time together outside of work. Yes, the report can wait until this evening…  
  
…Or perhaps tomorrow morning, should things go well.  
  
**Ignis (3:54 PM):** Where should I meet you?  
  
**Gladiolus (3:55 PM):** when you get here, take a left at the entrance, then a right, then another right at the giant balloon moogle. you can’t miss me. ;)  
  
**Ignis (3:56 PM):** I’ll see you shortly, then.  
  
Ignis closes his laptop, his stomach fluttering. Goodness. He’s about to meet Gladiolus Amicitia for an evening at the carnival, and he hasn’t even showered today.  
  
In the bedroom, he trades his faded t-shirt for a casual, wine-coloured button-down and pulls on his most flattering pair of dress pants. Then he moves to the bathroom to apply another coat of deodorant and dab a bit of cologne under his jaw. He runs a comb through his hair, though he leaves it unstyled, falling softly across his forehead. There isn’t much he can do about the golden stubble dusting his cheeks; he didn’t bother shaving this morning, and there’s no time to do it now.  
  
He gives himself one last look in the mirror before grabbing his keys and going out the door.  
  
The carnival is a ten-minute walk from his apartment, located on green parkland east of Mystic King’s Boulevard. It’s a beautiful day to be out and about—the weather is fair and mild, the sun shining brightly in a clear blue sky. A light breeze keeps it from being oppressively hot.  
  
The sounds of the carnival reach him as he approaches the fairgrounds—a cacophony of popular music, the clatter of a roller coaster on its track, the delighted shrieks of the people riding it. Ignis pays the entrance fee and follows the directions Gladio sent him, passing between rows of game tents and resolutely ignoring the carnies who try to persuade him into playing. When he reaches the inflatable moogle, he turns right, and the first thing he sees is Gladio.  
  
He’s standing behind a makeshift booth, leaning on the counter with one elbow as he scrolls through his phone. There’s a jar stuffed full of coins and bills on the counter, and next to it, a sign that says KISSING BOOTH — 5 CROWNS. Ignis hesitates as he takes it in, as he pictures Gladio giving out kisses to blushing women all day. He feels a pang of jealousy, but a part of him can't help wondering—would Gladio have kissed him, if he’d gotten in line with them and placed his payment in the jar?  
  
Or did he invite Ignis here for that very reason? His mouth goes dry as he considers the possibility.  
  
Gladio looks up as he approaches, his face breaking into the infectious smile that lingers in Ignis’s daydreams.  
  
“Iggy!” he says, straightening up and slipping his phone into his pocket. “You made it.”  
  
“So I have.” Ignis looks at the sign, then at the jar of crowns, then at Gladio, and he raises an eyebrow. “Dare I ask?”  
  
Gladio rubs the back of his neck, his smile going sheepish. “It wasn’t my idea. Iris asked me to do it.”  
  
“Your sister did?”  
  
“Yeah, to help raise money for her school,” Gladio says. “Their computer lab needs new laptops. I offered to help out, and she stuck me here.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Guess she figures it’s all I’m good for.”  
  
Ignis eyes the jar again. “It was a lucrative endeavour, I take it?”  
  
“Looks like it. I haven’t counted yet.” Gladio flips the KISSING BOOTH sign onto its face, effectively ending his shift. “You ready to hit the food carts? I’ve been dying for a cotton candy all day.”  
  
“Yes. Although…” On impulse, feeling bold enough to test his theory, Ignis digs his wallet out of his back pocket and flips it open, pulling out a five-crown bill. He holds it up between his index and middle fingers, gesturing at the jar with it. “May I contribute to the cause?”  
  
“Sure.” Licking his lips, Gladio watches him as he unscrews the cap on the jar and tucks the bill inside. “You, uh…you want a kiss for that?”  
  
Ignis smiles, folding his arms on the countertop as he leans toward Gladio. It’s a mercy that Gladio can’t hear the wild pounding of his heart. “Are you offering?”  
  
Gladio looks at his mouth, seemingly transfixed, all trace of teasing gone from his eyes. Ignis hooks his fingers in the collar of Gladio’s shirt and pulls him in, gently brushing their lips together. That mere touch is all it takes to light a fire in him—and so it must for Gladio, too, because he presses in more insistently, his mouth covering Ignis’s own, his body leaning in full across the counter that separates them. He tastes faintly of cinnamon—from gum, perhaps, chewed in preparation for his task today.  
  
When Gladio tries to introduce his tongue to the kiss, Ignis draws back, pushing lightly at Gladio’s chest to keep him at bay.  
  
“I’m afraid you haven’t earned that quite yet,” he says breathlessly.  
  
Gladio’s still looking at his mouth, dazed. “Yeah? And what do I have to do to earn it?”  
  
“You mentioned something about a ring toss earlier?” Ignis says. When Gladio raises his eyebrows, Ignis nods at the game tent across the way, his lips curving in a coy smile. “Win me a stuffed chocobo, and you’ll have your reward.”


End file.
